


The Recovery

by allineedisaquill



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explosions, First Kiss, Getting Together, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 04:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allineedisaquill/pseuds/allineedisaquill
Summary: “Janine had told him to find someone he cared for more than his job, but she’d never said just how much it would hurt.”In the aftermath, Danny and Nicholas both need to recover. They find each other along the way.





	The Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Hot Fuzz is one of my favourite films of all-time and I've been sitting on this fic for most of 2019 so far. It's finally time to share it as I don't think I can stare at it any longer. I hope I've done these two justice. Enjoy.

It was touch and go for a while, but Danny pulled through.

The smell of the hospital, the cleanliness and chemicals to mask the sick and the dying, became their new normal. Nicholas visited every day and even after laundry, he swore he could still smell it on his uniform. The flowers he brought to brighten up the white room couldn’t help the smell either, but they made Danny smile and that was what mattered most. 

Nicholas managed to sneak in sandwiches and soup from the shop at Danny’s puppy-eyed complaints of the hospital food, but he drew the line at Cornettos. Ice cream would be a treat, he said, for when Danny made a full recovery and was well enough to go home. 

The days were all a blur. Doctors and nurses could never resist commenting on what a close call it had been, well-meant attempts of lightening the mood with remarks of how lucky Danny must be. Funnily enough, Nicholas never found it in him to laugh, but he did perk up whenever they emphasised just how well he was recovering. He was on the mend just fine and the relief made him sag slightly in the bedside chair he occupied. 

He rarely ever left, except when it was Doris’s turn to visit and together she and Danny managed to convince him to leave for a few hours. A shower, some sleep, a bite to eat, and then he could return to watch over Danny again. 

“I don’t want you to end up in a bed beside me ‘cause you’re not looking after yourself properly,” Danny said to him one day. 

After that, he tried to be better about it.

  
  


When Danny was finally released, he was advised to have help at hand. He would be discharged but he would still be sore and vulnerable, unable to do much at all other than sit and pick through his extensive DVD collection. Someone to help with personal and domestic tasks was a reasonable enough suggestion, given his near-fatal circumstances.

With his dad behind bars and his mum long gone, it was slim pickings for the people he could stand to have around 24/7 at his beck and call. He had his Aunt Jackie and other relatives in Sandford, but in the aftermath of it all, they shared the hostility of other residents toward Nicholas and so, naturally, they were off the cards.

Danny also liked his space, as easy-going and friendly as he was, and he’d never really found anyone he’d wanted to be so close with. His relationship history proved as much since it was pretty much non-existent, save for a few drunken fumbles with people who had passed through the village and left before breakfast without so much as a note.

It was no surprise to anyone that Nicholas offered himself up for the job.

“It’s the least I can do,” he’d said, and covered Danny’s hand with his. 

Danny wanted to argue that he’d be fine, that the nurses were being overly cautious and he’d manage, but he never was able to argue with piercing blue eyes that softened just for him or a touch that turned his insides to jelly.

  
  


The cottage was finished by the time Danny was discharged. The smell of fresh paint had only just begun to fade. When Nicholas moved a few boxes of Danny’s things into the spare bedroom, he introduced Danny’s ex-impounded peace lily to it, too.

“To purify the air, or something?” Danny asked as Nicholas set the pot down. 

The surprised, proud smile Nicholas gave him made Danny’s stomach do somersaults. Danny had blamed the reaction on his strong pain medication, stubbornly argued it to himself, but the pink rose to his cheeks every time he looked at the plant in its pot.

The boxes hadn’t been hard to pull together as Danny had never bothered to unpack ninety percent of his belongings in the first place, but he took the liberty of also bringing a few piles of films as requested by a long list scribbled in Danny’s handwriting.

At the bottom of the list was a small doodle of two Police officers clearly resembling the two of them, and Nicholas smiled to himself and folded it carefully before he slipped it into his wallet. 

Unable to lift anything heavy himself, Danny had watched from Nicholas’s couch as he lugged the boxes in one by one. He lazily munched on a Cornetto as he did so, as promised by Nicholas weeks before, and if he’d admired too closely the muscles of Nicholas’s toned arms as he carried everything then nobody had been around to call him on it. He thought maybe Nicholas, perceptive as he was, might have noticed - but everything considered, Danny ultimately decided not to care.

It would be at least another two weeks before Danny could return to work - desk duty only at that, with no room for arguments - but under his roof, Nicholas could keep a closer eye on Danny’s well-being. He hadn’t wanted to send him back to a cramped home cluttered with boxes and other trip hazards, and it was easier to offer Danny all the help he needed without having to traipse back and forth from his own place during and after exhausting shifts. Not that Nicholas would have minded, of course, but this worked for them and after everything, the company was appreciated too.

Nicholas hadn’t slept a decent night’s sleep since it had all gone down. Between the constant flood of work that came with uncovering Sandford’s dark secrets and worrying over Danny in hospital, Nicholas had been running on fumes, herbal teas switched out for much-needed caffeine and nightmares frequently plaguing the little rest he did get. There were dark rings under his eyes and he blinked a little slower at questions that made him think too hard, but at the end of each long day it was a comfort to know Danny would be there when he got home, burrowed under a blanket with some action film playing.

Both were quick to fall into a routine and the calm and sense of normality it brought.

Morning jogs were replaced with a steady walk around the village together, exercise vital to building up Danny’s strength and aiding a faster, healthier recovery. Danny had spent extra time in hospital from both the explosion and the gunshot, and the ever-observant Nicholas was too acutely aware of where Danny had lost a few pounds. For as much as Nicholas didn’t hide his concern for Danny’s health, there was equal amounts of Danny scoffing at the extra fuss and insisting how fine he was. It was a familiar back and forth, and their walks together had become one of Nicholas’s favourite parts of the day.

Nicholas would come home from his shifts with heavy shoulders most evenings. On the rare occasion, he’d allow them to have a takeaway and indulge a bit in comfort food, but mostly Nicholas would watch to the end of whatever film was on and then drag himself up to cook something simple and quick but high in nutritional value. The smell of the food would bring him around to a state more like the living and by the time they were side by side and tucking in, there’d be a relaxed smile on his face as they talked around their meals.

“You don’t have to cook all these dinners, y’know. Never did much cooking of my own before, like,” Danny had mumbled one evening from Nicholas’s couch, and although it was new it already bore the familiar imprint of Danny’s body in one corner from all the time he would spend curled up there. 

Nicholas only gave him a stern look. “That’s not exactly comforting, Danny,” he chastised, though his tone was soft and patient the way it often was when it came to the other man. “I’ve been a vegetarian for a number of years and have quite a few recipes locked up here,” he said, tapping the tip of the handle of his wooden spoon to his temple. “You need good food as well as plenty of fresh air and exercise, and I intend to make sure you get both. Doctor’s orders.” 

“Inspector’s orders,” Danny corrected, referring to Nicholas’s recent promotion.

“Yes. Thank you, Sergeant,” Nicholas returned in kind as he turned back to focus dutifully on preparing their meal. 

He missed the pleased smile Danny had as he settled back against the couch cushions.

“Can’t say I enjoy the walks much yet. We always get looks from people.”

Nicholas continued to stir and gave a soft sigh. That was one downside of their otherwise peaceful walks in the mornings. “They’ll come ‘round, I’ve told you. They just need time to get over everything and process it in their own ways. Try not to worry.” He wasn’t sure how much he believed himself, truthfully, but he tried to have hope.

They both tried for the other’s sake, but Nicholas was extra careful not to spill his worries too much in Danny’s recovering state. Of course he would talk about work and keep the other man in the loop of things, but he was wary of the stresses of the job and didn’t want to put too much on the young Constable’s shoulders too soon. He couldn’t bring himself to divulge the horrors of all he’d seen. There was also the added guilt of the way Danny had been treated; lied to by his father and the people he’d grown up around, shot and caught in an explosion, judged by Sandford’s remaining residents for his involvement with the whole thing and with Nicholas himself. Guilty by association. It made his stomach churn.

The last thing Nicholas wanted was to burden Danny with it all. If it meant bottling up everything he felt, so be it. As long as the other man could recover and heal with minimal worry, Nicholas would keep quiet - even to the detriment of his own health. Sometimes he thought of how much Danny would scold him for it if he knew, but Danny was in no position to do so after his reckless lack of self-preservation had almost gotten him  _ killed _ , damn it all.

“I worry about you,” Danny said around a mouthful of stir-fry, ten minutes later.

Nicholas swore he was a mind-reader, or maybe he just knew him too well.

The words were simple and honest. Danny still wore his heart on his sleeve despite everything, a trait that endeared and scared Nicholas in equal measure; he couldn’t imagine living life that that, but was endlessly drawn to the way Danny so easily  _ did. _

Nicholas regarded him with a frown, brows pulled together. “You shouldn’t.”

“Well I do anyway,” he continued with a shrug. “I know you’ve had the promotion and everything, and there’s still loads to sort out, but everyone has their limits. I don’t think I wanna watch when you reach yours, that’s all.”

Danny was many things - naive, hopeful, silly, trusting, selfless, kind - but he was anything but stupid. Far from it. He was sharper and more perceptive than most realised; a fast learner and keen listener with a knack for retaining information. He was intelligent and willing to change, grow, be better. He also saw through Nicholas’s  façade s with ease.

“I know my limits,” Nicholas insisted.

“All I’m saying is I can tell you’re struggling. No shame in it,” Danny said.

The newly-appointed Chief Inspector had little chance for a break, as it happened. Where he’d just been learning how to switch off, let his guard down a bit and relax with his team, The Incident had forced those walls back up and twice as thick, too. He was either slumped from the weight of his world or sat stiffly in his chair, no in-between, and he worked until words on papers swam in his vision and he could no longer hold his pen properly. He’d been all but forced to delegate more work to those under his command and had agreed with a tired pinch of the bridge of his nose. 

If he didn’t have Danny still, Nicholas knew his breaking point would have been met already, but it didn’t change the way the heaviness pressed him down. There ought to have been a bigger indent on the couch where he sat from the weight of it all.

“Doris rang me the other day while you were on-duty, like. Said you’d been handing off more work to the others once they’d convinced that head of yours. But every time you come home, it’s like there’s less of you here.” 

Silence.

“I’m scared one day you’re gonna walk through the door and you won’t be there at all.”

Nicholas stiffened at that. “That won’t happen. I’m really all right, Danny,” Nicholas insisted, shoving food around on his plate. He’d lost his appetite all of a sudden, watching his fork move with an unreadable expression. 

It wasn’t the first time such a conversation had come up. Danny often commented on the bags under Nicholas’s eyes and told him to sleep in an extra half hour every so often, and he wasn’t shy about reminding the older man not to overwork himself either. Typical of Danny to take it upon himself to worry when Nicholas was supposed to be taking care of  _ him. _

That night felt different, though. Maybe it was the way Nicholas wouldn’t meet his eye and smile an exhausted but reassuring smile the way he usually would; maybe it was the way they were sat closer than they usually did for their evening meals; maybe it was the build-up of too many things unsaid that were beginning to burst at the seams.

No matter the cause, they ate by the soft lamplight of Nicholas’s living room, thigh to thigh on the couch, and it all felt decidedly  _ different _ . There was only so much hiding Nicholas could do whilst sharing a roof with him, and it seemed he could hide no longer.

“You might have been able to fob those off in London with that, and the others at the station might believe it an’ all, but you can’t fool me that easily.” By the way Danny put his plate down on the nearby coffee table, his appetite had up and left too. “I know I’ve been through the wars a bit and you’ve every right to worry, I suppose, but I’m not made of glass. You can talk to me. Share what’s going on in that big melon of yours before it ruins you.”

Nicholas felt the ghost of Danny’s touch to his temple as he remembered the last time his friend had said those words. His throat clicked with a swallow and his eyes flickered but remained downcast as his fingers picked an invisible thread from his couch cushion.

He was supposed to be avoiding this. Danny wasn’t meant to worry.

“I don’t know what to say,” Nicholas said, “and Jesus, Danny, after everything you’ve been through, you’re not going to be my  _ therapist _ . You don’t need this.” When he blinked, there was moisture there, and his next swallow was tinged with pain and thick with emotion. 

Flashes passed in his mind like a slideshow; a white shirt soaked with blood, tears that cut through grime and dirt, hospital visits and endless questions and paperwork he could never seem to make a dent in. It hurt his head. He scrubbed a palm down his face until it grazed over the golden day-old stubble on his cheeks and chin.

“Say anything,” Danny offered as he scooched a bit closer. “I don’t wanna be your therapist. Not qualified for that. Barely qualified to be a Police officer,” Danny joked, giving Nicholas’s arm a nudge, but when the other man didn’t so much as crack a smile, he sobered again. “I ain’t gonna break, Nick. I’m here. So talk to me,” he said, and Danny’s voice, so soft and familiar, eroded the already-thin reservations he had. 

Back in London, Nicholas had a reputation of being surly at worst and distant at best, prickly when you got too close with his only focus being the work. Yet in a tiny country village, he’d finally met someone who had broken down his walls so effortlessly that he hadn’t even realised it was happening until it was too late to fight it. He wasn’t even sure he’d wanted to fight it, in the end. Danny, with his warm accent and kind brown eyes, had filled in all the gaps, fitted himself into this new life until Nicholas couldn’t imagine it any differently. He was everything Nicholas needed and they were partners in every way except one. 

Sometimes it was quite unbearable to be so close and yet still so far away, especially after almost losing him in such a huge, destructive way. Janine had told him to find someone he cared for more than his job, but she’d never said just how much it would  _ hurt _ .

“You almost died,” Nicholas said in a croaked breath. He opened his mouth to say more, but thought better of it and clamped his jaw shut again. All he offered next was a shake of his head. He realised as a numb afterthought that he was crying and quickly brought a hand up to press at the corners of his eyes, trying to stem the tears the way he’d tried to stem the blood flow from Danny’s wound that day, but it was to the same frustrating ineffectiveness and he didn’t need to say anything more in the end.

For all he had tried to keep things to himself, the dam broke frighteningly quickly and everything he felt was suddenly so undeniably bare.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” Danny murmured, eyes flooded with concern.

A sharp laugh was pulled from Nicholas. “Sorry,” he said, rushed on a sob.

“Don’t apologise, neither,” Danny continued, and if Nicholas wanted to die at the easy understanding coating his voice, then he definitely did at the large, warm hand that grasped the back of his neck and guided him down until his head rested on a firm shoulder.

A thumb ran slowly over his close-cropped hair, brushed his skin every now and then, and Nicholas focused on the steady movement. This close he could breathe Danny in, the familiar scent of cheap deodorant mixed with Nicholas’s shower gel. His nose was pressed to the soft cotton of Danny’s t-shirt and the light blue fabric darkened where his tears fell through eyes squeezed shut. He felt a brief moment of relief that Danny no longer smelled of that hospital room, but of home -  _ his  _ home - after he had been so close to never coming home at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me how bad things were?” Danny asked softly in his ear, though there was nothing accusatory in his tone. “I can’t hardly blame you. It’s been a hell of a few weeks. I think anyone would get themselves in a right state over it all, so you don’t have to pretend you’re not. Not around me, anyway.”

Danny’s other hand rubbed up and down Nicholas’s back and with each broad stroke, a little more tension ebbed away. It was so good, Nicholas could only cry more.

He cried for the people he was too late to save and the survivor’s guilt it brought. He cried for Danny. He cried at the memory of ringing ears and his best friend bleeding out among the rubble. He cried for all the nights spent staring at the ceiling, unable to find peace. He’d had some rough days but in all his time in the job, he’d never been involved in something on such a scale, never been so close to losing so much after only just gaining it. Sometimes when he breathed in too deep, he swore he could still taste the dirt in the air after the explosion or the damp and rot of the catacombs below the castle. 

The little soothing motions never relented. He may have worn a deeply concerned expression, his own heart hurting at Nicholas’s pain, but Danny was content to hold him. He did what he knew to do, offered up his comfort and rocked them both slowly the way his mum had done with him when he was a boy. When Nicholas’s arms finally found their way around Danny’s middle, he knew he’d made the right choice and held on still.

It was a mini eternity until either of them spoke again, and it was Nicholas’s broken voice that finally cut the blanket of silence that had settled over them.

“God. I’m sorry, Danny,” he mumbled from his place at Danny’s shoulder. “I’m here breaking down while you’re the one in recovery. This is the last thing you need.” He began to draw back. “I tried to avoid-”

He was swiftly cut off. “Don’t,” Danny insisted. He looked at Nicholas in soft earnest. “I said you don’t have to pretend around me and I meant it. Besides, I’m not the only one recovering, am I?”

Nicholas sniffed, and a second later he smiled the barest of smiles. Of course Danny could make it so simple when he’d done a great job of over-complicating just about everything. 

They were  _ both _ recovering. Of course they were. 

“I hate it when you’re right,” Nicholas grumbled, but his smile only grew.

Danny’s own grin, bright and hopeful, melted some of the darkness. “That’s more like it, ‘ey? I’m more than just a pretty face you know. I do actually talk sense sometimes.” 

Nicholas had dipped his chin as he laughed, and when he finally raised his head again to meet Danny’s eyes, there was a distinct shift. 

_ Understanding. _

Danny had been given a lot of time to sit back and observe over his weeks spent mostly on Nicholas’s couch, and he’d never been blind to the weary state the other man was often in. His attempts to get Nicholas to pay closer attention to his own needs mostly fell on deaf ears, and he was so relieved he’d finally gotten through after weeks of feeling his partner slipping away. He was a bit remorseful that it had taken a near full-on breakdown to do so, but he’d rather that than lose the balance they had for good and with it, the man he loved. 

Ah, yes, there was that too.

“Like I said, I thought I was losing you for a bit,” Danny said quietly. His own gaze averted for a few moments, the honesty making eye-contact a bit difficult for him. “I just didn’t know how to help.” He didn’t add how he was never quite sure if Nicholas would accept his help or drift further away, and that he hadn’t wanted to find out the hard way. 

Nicholas swallowed once, then wiped his eyes with the back of a hand. 

“I cocked up a bit,” he replied regretfully. Instead of protecting Danny, he’d only succeeded in making the other man worry anyway.  _ What a mess _ , he thought.

Danny huffed a laugh. “More than that. A problem shared is a problem halved, didn’t anyone ever tell you that? For a clever London Police officer, you don’t half miss the obvious.”

There he was again, turning Nicholas’s world the right way up and putting order in things once more, straightening out the muddied and complex until the path was clear. Not for the first time, Nicholas silently thanked his superiors back at the Met for his transfer. 

“Alright, alright,” Nicholas said as he held his hands up in surrender. 

“C’mere,” Danny simply said with a fond shake of his head.

Nicholas was pulled back into a strong embrace, and he had enough about him the second time around to actually sink into it fully. He was careful of the sensitive areas of Danny’s stomach as he pressed close, palms flat to the other man’s back. Danny was warm and comforting and so very accepting of him, flaws and all, and holding onto him was not unlike trying to keep himself afloat amidst a raging storm. 

It had been too long since he’d been at the centre of so much affection and the fact that it was  _ Danny _ made it all the more significant. All at once, he was hit with how fiercely he didn’t want to be let go of.

In the safe bracket of sure arms, the rest of the world couldn’t get in.

“I’m sorry,” Nicholas whispered into Danny’s shoulder.

Danny nodded. “Me too,” he whispered back. 

Nicholas took a deep, shuddering breath. Danny pulled him a bit closer.

Just like that, all was forgiven.

Five minutes later they heated their meals back up in Nicholas’s microwave and finished them over the end of some action film Danny suggested. Nicholas hadn’t really been following it, but he loved how engrossed Danny always was.

It was domestic, familiar, easy.

Their thighs still touched on the sofa where they sat.

  
  
  


Nicholas always insisted they went to bed at a reasonable hour, all part of the proper rest and recovery Danny - _ both of them  _ \- needed. 

No matter how early Nicholas went to bed, he always awoke in the small hours to laboured breaths and a fine sheen of sweat covering his skin. The nightmares were relentless and horrifying and he could only bear the darkness of his room for a few seconds before he had to flick a lamp on, scared the shadows would morph into the bodies he’d found That Night.

He shoved himself up and the covers pooled at his bare waist. He tried to calm down, to take a few moments in the comfort of a low-lit room and tell himself it was just a bad dream as always. But that night, he just couldn’t shake it. 

Nicholas thought of earlier, of Danny’s arms, and he swung his legs over the bed and got to his feet before he could talk himself out of it. 

It took only a few seconds to pad barefoot to the door of Danny’s room.

Left cracked open a bit, Danny could see the soft illumination of Nicholas standing in his doorway. It was hardly a surprise since the floorboards in the cottage creaked rather a lot and Nicholas’s choked screams had woken him the way they always did, but to see the other man standing quiet and troubled was still a bit of a shock to the system.

Danny was still unused to a Nicholas that could be open and vulnerable.

“You can come in,” Danny offered softly.

There was a pause. Danny watched Nicholas blink, presumably previously unaware that Danny was in fact awake, and then contemplate the offer. He was secretly glad when Nicholas stepped over the threshold and clicked the door shut behind him. 

He sat himself down on the edge of Danny’s bed where the other man was still lying beneath his duvet. His knuckles paled where his hands gripped the bed’s edge a bit too tightly.

“Bad dream?” Danny asked, even though he knew the answer.

Nicholas hummed.

Danny rolled himself toward him, slow and mindful of his own injuries, and watched the back of a blonde head for a moment. He quietly admired the stretch of smooth skin over his back, the clusters of freckles and moles dotted along shoulder blades, the dip at the base of his spine. The gold of his St. Christopher medallion caught on the light, glinted where it lay, and Danny had never seen someone so beautiful in all his life. It was that simple.

“I hate bad dreams,” he said, doing the talking for him. “Had them loads as a kid. Mum used to say it was all the films I watched that I shouldn’t have ‘cause of the age ratings, but it didn’t stop me watching ‘em.”

Nicholas gave a small laugh at the personal anecdote. A second later, he sighed and twisted until he could lie down on the bed facing Danny. 

That was definitely a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Danny was always over the moon when Nicholas afforded him these moments of closeness that others simply weren’t privy to when it came to the older man. He revelled in them, savoured them, kept them close to his heart. These moments were all his, and he could pretend that Nicholas was, too.

“I heard you,” Danny murmured. “I usually do. You’re loud when you have nightmares.”

A flash of guilt crossed Nicholas’s face, then shame. “Sorry,” came his quiet voice. 

Danny only gave him a reassuring smile. “‘S’alright,” he said.

The first time Danny had comforted him that day hadn’t been planned, the unfolding of it all purely a matter of circumstance and coincidence. 

Nicholas had sought him out deliberately the second time, crept to his room in the early hours in nothing but worn pyjama bottoms. He’d taken his place in Danny’s bed just as easily as he had in his life, like he’d belonged there all along but was only just finding his place. He knew it couldn’t be coincidence a second time. People didn’t end up like that by accident, he knew, and it was Nicholas himself who had taught Danny to pay closer attention after all.

“Talk to me,” Danny prompted.

Nicholas met his eyes, then. “I just can’t switch off.” He said it as if he was pleading with him, and eyes that were usually so sharp and attentive were softened by the dim room and filled with grief. Moonlight caught on pale lashes where it shone in from Danny’s window, highlighted strands of blonde hair like a halo, and Nicholas looked so very uncharacteristically small where he’d curled up on one side of his bed, head nestled on a pillow that surely smelled of Danny. He wondered if Nicholas found comfort in that. 

“I can show you how,” Danny said, an echo of months ago as he nodded against the pillow.

Nicholas’s eyebrows flitted up. “No offence, Danny, but it’s a bit late for films.”

“Oh, shut up, you idiot,” he murmured back. “That’s not what I meant, not this time.” 

Nicholas did as he was told. He also held his breath and waited.

It was released in one long exhale when Danny shuffled closer and kissed him softly. Every stress was banished with the gentle pressure of lips on his and the large, warm hand that framed his jaw. With eyes slid shut, Nicholas’s mind cleared for the first time in weeks and left only room for this. It was a precipice they’d been at for far too long and his fingers curled resolutely into Danny’s t-shirt to keep himself anchored as they fell over it together, lost in each slow, careful brushing of their mouths.

Danny felt the tickle of Nicholas’s stubble under both his lips and fingertips. He’d only ever imagined what it would be like to kiss him clean-shaven, but the sensation of coarse hair had his stomach back to familiar somersaults. He couldn’t blame his medication that time, not when they were so close that the warmth of Nicholas’s bare chest seeped through to his own.

It had been a while for both of them, truthfully, since they’d last had intimacy. They both knew that, but Danny was anything but shy about his keenness to change it and Nicholas was in more than agreement if his elevated heart rate and fluttering chest were anything to go by. 

It felt so good to touch and be touched, and in the end, it was always going to be  _ them _ .

“How long?” Nicholas asked simply when they parted, Danny’s breath on his lips.

Danny, bless him, frowned and tilted his head. “How long what?”

Nicholas let out a small laugh and uncurled his hand from Danny’s shirt, shifting his light touch to Danny’s stomach instead. He didn’t have to look to know it was right over the scar. He watched Danny swallow back emotion and blink a few times.

“How long have you wanted this?” Nicholas tried again.

Gentle realisation dawned in kind, brown eyes. “Oh,” he said. “Since the start, really.”

Nicholas gaped, stunned. He’d always known Danny had been fond of him from the off, awed by the big city officer suddenly in their midst. He’d been interested, yes, but Nicholas had never realised just how interested he had been. 

“Right,” Nicholas said slowly, flushed. Of its own accord, his thumb rubbed circles where it sat. He was having difficulty forming full thoughts, let alone coherent ones. He ducked his head and shook it as he laughed at himself. “I think it took me a little longer than that.”

Danny gave him a wide smile as he adjusted his head against his pillow. “Got there in the end though,” he teased, and if he continued to look at Nicholas like that then he was going to be in very serious bother because the unbridled adoration was too much for one man to bear. 

“I did,” Nicholas agreed with a hum. “After Janine, I wasn’t really looking for anyone, but I came here and there you were. And then... I almost lost you.”

“Hey, hey,” Danny soothed. His palm caressed the side of Nicholas’s neck and his heart ached at the sombre tone Nicholas took. “You didn’t, though. I’m right here and I’ve got no plans on leaving.”

Nicholas had a hand braced on Danny’s chest as his own heaved. He seemed to fight with himself for a moment, face contorted with emotion, but it cleared when he met Danny’s eyes. 

There was another beat before Nicholas bridged the gap with a firm, desperate kiss.

He would have poured the world into it if he could, because Danny deserved nothing less. 

There was himself to offer, though, so he went with that instead, letting all the months of simmering, deepening love spill out between the seam of their lips until they could fill Danny up the way they filled him up, too. His hand found the back of Danny’s neck, fingers slotted into soft brown hair at his nape, and it was the perfect way to draw him closer still. 

The hand at his neck drifted down, so gently down, fingertips making a shy path over bare skin. Under the attention, Nicholas shivered, and his body pressed forwards into it. From shoulder to rib cage to the start of his hip above a cotton waistband, Danny’s careful touch warmed each place it fell until Nicholas felt his toes curl against the mattress. 

“Danny,” Nicholas whispered, because there was nothing else left on his mind.

Another kiss came, pressed like an answer to the corner of his mouth.

Then came more, a path carved tender and slow. Jaw, cheek, the soft skin below his earlobe, firm muscle of his neck. A pulse quickened beneath Danny’s lips and they chased out a soft sigh. He succeeded in melting Nicholas’s desperation away until he was relaxed and pliant, responding to each kiss with nothing quiet, appreciative breaths despite the way his heartbeat fluttered. Danny was secretly very pleased to be the one to do that to Nicholas, of all people.

With a final kiss to his skin, Danny shifted back up again.

“I ain’t going anywhere,” he reiterated, just in case.

No amount of searching from Nicholas turned up any signs of a lie in his eyes. He surely meant it then, and the clarity allowed a newfound calm to settle in his bones. 

“I know,” Nicholas said with a grateful smile. 

“Better had,” Danny replied. 

  
  


Danny began to enjoy their morning walks after that and if people were going to stare at them then, well, he would give them something to look at. 

Every day they left the cottage, Danny slipped his hand into Nicholas’s and the older man would squeeze his back gratefully.

  
  



End file.
